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When I walk three miles out to Horningsea
and enter through the gentle path that leads
me through across some farmland, I can see
in my mind's eye how all this sky that bleeds
gold upon the flatlands seems to be
doubled with the view you note each day
when you rise early: broad light making free
with ground of earthy beige. Dreams make a play
upon my image of the desert scene
you see each day: I give your ground some new
shoots springing from a water stream; bright green
rushes quiver, gorgeously. Your view
I would make lifelush without end.
May these words green your desert now, my friend.
there is joy and there is green
in the smallest plants you've ever seen
across the yawning pond
whole microcosms live alight
on dew in sunburnt air
on red sand rock
and under lizard feet
(that might be green)
that seek a shade in which to rest
and yet, we daily pray for rain
for springs to spring
and water find
our crevices
our rushes shake and grow
while Nature hums "anomaly"
a tiny tune upon her mouth
"anomaly, anomaly,
just wait ten minutes and you'll see,
your dead rock garden grow
you wouldn't, but you now must know
a wish in friendship has been sown
in air across the sea-ee!"
Originally posted by PastaNazi there is joy and there is green
in the smallest plants you've ever seen
across the yawning pond
whole microcosms live alight
on dew in sunburnt air
on red sand rock
and under lizard feet
(that might be green)
that seek a shade in which to rest
and yet, we daily pray for rain
for springs to spring
and water find
our crevices
our rushes shake and grow
while Nature hums "anomaly"
a tiny tune upon her mouth
"anomaly, anomaly,
just wait ten minutes and you'll see,
your dead rock garden grow
you wouldn't, but you now must know
a wish in friendship has been sown
in air across the sea-ee!"
It only takes a hundred years for glass to gain hips.
you wrote an entire poem which you didn't like, and I agree I don't like it either, but you left yourself with this piece of gold, and if that's all you got out of that poem it's enough, take this gem somewhere else, make it the crown jewel of a new reign.
This is a fresh inventive line, and an awesome opener for another poem.
It only takes a couple hundred years for glass to get hips.
A warped wish through which
all things look like they’re underwater.
Watery and wobbly and even unsure
like loneliness must mean being alone.
Originally posted by PastaNazi It only takes a couple hundred years for glass to get hips.
A warped wish through which
all things look like they’re underwater.
Watery and wobbly and even unsure
like loneliness must mean being alone.
wow that's great!!
and born from the one line: "It only takes a couple hundred years for glass to get hips"
Originally posted by PastaNazi there is joy and there is green
in the smallest plants you've ever seen
across the yawning pond
whole microcosms live alight
on dew in sunburnt air
on red sand rock
and under lizard feet
(that might be green)
that seek a shade in which to rest
and yet, we daily pray for rain
for springs to spring
and water find
our crevices
our rushes shake and grow
while Nature hums "anomaly"
a tiny tune upon her mouth
"anomaly, anomaly,
just wait ten minutes and you'll see,
your dead rock garden grow
you wouldn't, but you now must know
a wish in friendship has been sown
in air across the sea-ee!"
so much talent here
yum yum for my tum ( thats all i could come up with sowwy)
delicious indeed
thank u soooooooo much babers!!
"anomaly, anomaly,
just wait ten minutes and you'll see,
your dead rock garden grow
you wouldn't, but you now must know
a wish in friendship has been sown
in air across the sea-ee!"
It only took a hundred years for glass to gain hips
melted and blasted into curves
rising in grainy waves from the fertile crescent
fifty years later they learned to give birth
and spread small windows across the sea
though the wind swept around them
the eyes could see through
How hollow were the tribes of glass
who dance on beaches under the heat
To make love is a toast
glass hips
melted
blasted
rising fifty years to give birth
and spread small windows across the sea
wind swept the eyes,
the tribes of glass dance on beaches under heat
To make love
a toast
In my spring's midnight waking dream, she flew into my room with her purpose and landed flat on top of me. She pressed her hands and her arms and her legs to the sides of mine, diligently trying to encircle me yet unable to move through mattress and sheet.
Eventually, she kissed me, soft, and long, and whimpering... coming to whisper the words "you smell different" as she inhaled me through her nose and mouth. I apologized, calling her "babe", and she said, "It's okay, I like it".
She always says that.
She left to undress and returned and in moments (mere moments) we lay sleeping. Dreamed inside the space between, outside ourselves, where We Came to be.
Lil’ sweet thing
knee-high to a barbell
put her pudgy lil’ fingers
on the wings of a lady bug.
She squeezed a little hard
and then dropped it in the palm of her hand.
It started climbing up her arm.
She shrieked and batted it back to the grass.
She picked it up again.
Again pinching somewhat brittle wing’s edge to brittle wing’s edge
and dropped it, again, into the palm of her hand.
“Stay”, she told it, and smiled.
Now, everybody knows that a lady bug’s brain, if it even has one, must be very, very small, and this particular lady bug was no different. So, regardless of instruction given by God or by a little girl, it must just move when something seems wrong.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Be still my heart
inseparable from God
allow His great big plan unfold.
Spin as He lets go.
Let arms open.
Slow.
The dizziness will fade.
The world may not have changed
when you open your eyes.
Okay, Pasta, you whispered to me that I should put my deconstructionist's hat on and dig into it, but I liked it too much. I was thinking of little tweaks as I read it, and of course, everyone might disagree with my suggestion below and think your original version far better! Anyway, without further ado, here's my tweak:
Knee-high to a barbell,
A sweet lil' thing
put her pudgy baby fingers
on a lady bug's wings.
She squeezed really hard
and then she dropped it
down
gently
into the palm of her hand.
But then, it started up,
buzzing ticklingly,
climbing whizzily
scurrying
up, up, up her arm!
She shrieked!,
and she batted it
bang with her lil' fist
back down into...
somewhere in the grass.
And all was quiet then.
Too quiet.
She looked for it again,
Prising apart grass stalks
and twiddling daisies.
There it was! She picked it up,
Again pinching that lady bug's
brittle wings
together
wing’s edge to wing’s edge
nicely
with her pincer baby fingers
and opening again that pudgy lil' vice
she dropped the lady bug,
once again,
into the palm of her hand.
“Stay”,
she told it,
and then she smiled.
(Now, everybody knows that a lady bug’s brain, if it even has one, must be very, very small, and this particular lady bug was no different. So, regardless of instruction given by God or by a little girl, it must just move when something seems wrong.)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Be still my heart
inseparable from God
allow His great big plan unfold.
Spin as He lets go.
Let arms open.
Slow.
The dizziness will fade.
The world may not have changed
when you open your eyes.
laid it at your feet
turned
walked away
the pink stain on a virgin's gown
and the glow on a cheek
sashayed through the fray
through the darkroom
down the hallway
a ring tone hand
touched a hot door knob
where the otherside firemen
yelled "don't open it
you're barefoot,
you're barefoot
quite liable to trip"
Write. Wind each new thought upon the stream;
and in its contradiction of response,
Or seeming stagnance, see that rippled gleam
That might suggest true movement. If you sense
a hidden wave in what seems blanket still,
Write more, wind each desire, and you'll see
The willows nod and rustle, and you will
hear the rushing babble of the free
gush of water, brimming, charged with light
That is your reader's understanding heart.
Comments
EV - St. Louis 7/1/11 ** Tulsa 11/19/12
thank you for reading
and enter through the gentle path that leads
me through across some farmland, I can see
in my mind's eye how all this sky that bleeds
gold upon the flatlands seems to be
doubled with the view you note each day
when you rise early: broad light making free
with ground of earthy beige. Dreams make a play
upon my image of the desert scene
you see each day: I give your ground some new
shoots springing from a water stream; bright green
rushes quiver, gorgeously. Your view
I would make lifelush without end.
May these words green your desert now, my friend.
I AM TOUCHED!
honestly...
what an amazing poem.... thank you so very much...
i think i need a tissue *sniff*
wowsers
in the smallest plants you've ever seen
across the yawning pond
whole microcosms live alight
on dew in sunburnt air
on red sand rock
and under lizard feet
(that might be green)
that seek a shade in which to rest
and yet, we daily pray for rain
for springs to spring
and water find
our crevices
our rushes shake and grow
while Nature hums "anomaly"
a tiny tune upon her mouth
"anomaly, anomaly,
just wait ten minutes and you'll see,
your dead rock garden grow
you wouldn't, but you now must know
a wish in friendship has been sown
in air across the sea-ee!"
For life, girl, for life. Good friend.
It only takes a hundred years for glass to gain hips.
you wrote an entire poem which you didn't like, and I agree I don't like it either, but you left yourself with this piece of gold, and if that's all you got out of that poem it's enough, take this gem somewhere else, make it the crown jewel of a new reign.
This is a fresh inventive line, and an awesome opener for another poem.
Go!
flip the frame
it's viscosity, baby
an evolution in glass
thanks hon
A warped wish through which
all things look like they’re underwater.
Watery and wobbly and even unsure
like loneliness must mean being alone.
wow that's great!!
and born from the one line: "It only takes a couple hundred years for glass to get hips"
impressive!
yum yum for my tum ( thats all i could come up with
delicious indeed
thank u soooooooo much babers!!
and yet, we daily pray for rain
for springs to spring
and water find
our crevices
our rushes shake and grow
what a sweet and innocent transition in closing
can you hear the little tune in that?
lol
i can't help but sing it
thanks ever so
x
o
x
o
melted and blasted into curves
rising in grainy waves from the fertile crescent
fifty years later they learned to give birth
and spread small windows across the sea
though the wind swept around them
the eyes could see through
How hollow were the tribes of glass
who dance on beaches under the heat
To make love is a toast
glass hips
melted
blasted
rising fifty years to give birth
and spread small windows across the sea
wind swept the eyes,
the tribes of glass dance on beaches under heat
To make love
a toast
clink!
thank you eviltoasterelf!
Eventually, she kissed me, soft, and long, and whimpering... coming to whisper the words "you smell different" as she inhaled me through her nose and mouth. I apologized, calling her "babe", and she said, "It's okay, I like it".
She always says that.
She left to undress and returned and in moments (mere moments) we lay sleeping. Dreamed inside the space between, outside ourselves, where We Came to be.
here's another that's far too short...
(sorry!)
Lil’ sweet thing
knee-high to a barbell
put her pudgy lil’ fingers
on the wings of a lady bug.
She squeezed a little hard
and then dropped it in the palm of her hand.
It started climbing up her arm.
She shrieked and batted it back to the grass.
She picked it up again.
Again pinching somewhat brittle wing’s edge to brittle wing’s edge
and dropped it, again, into the palm of her hand.
“Stay”, she told it, and smiled.
Now, everybody knows that a lady bug’s brain, if it even has one, must be very, very small, and this particular lady bug was no different. So, regardless of instruction given by God or by a little girl, it must just move when something seems wrong.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Be still my heart
inseparable from God
allow His great big plan unfold.
Spin as He lets go.
Let arms open.
Slow.
The dizziness will fade.
The world may not have changed
when you open your eyes.
Knee-high to a barbell,
A sweet lil' thing
put her pudgy baby fingers
on a lady bug's wings.
She squeezed really hard
and then she dropped it
down
gently
into the palm of her hand.
But then, it started up,
buzzing ticklingly,
climbing whizzily
scurrying
up, up, up her arm!
She shrieked!,
and she batted it
bang with her lil' fist
back down into...
somewhere in the grass.
And all was quiet then.
Too quiet.
She looked for it again,
Prising apart grass stalks
and twiddling daisies.
There it was! She picked it up,
Again pinching that lady bug's
brittle wings
together
wing’s edge to wing’s edge
nicely
with her pincer baby fingers
and opening again that pudgy lil' vice
she dropped the lady bug,
once again,
into the palm of her hand.
“Stay”,
she told it,
and then she smiled.
(Now, everybody knows that a lady bug’s brain, if it even has one, must be very, very small, and this particular lady bug was no different. So, regardless of instruction given by God or by a little girl, it must just move when something seems wrong.)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Be still my heart
inseparable from God
allow His great big plan unfold.
Spin as He lets go.
Let arms open.
Slow.
The dizziness will fade.
The world may not have changed
when you open your eyes.
love the exclamation point, it's perfect!
those parens were definitely appropriate, too
thank you very much
turned
walked away
the pink stain on a virgin's gown
and the glow on a cheek
sashayed through the fray
through the darkroom
down the hallway
a ring tone hand
touched a hot door knob
where the otherside firemen
yelled "don't open it
you're barefoot,
you're barefoot
quite liable to trip"
amazing, Pasta
and in its contradiction of response,
Or seeming stagnance, see that rippled gleam
That might suggest true movement. If you sense
a hidden wave in what seems blanket still,
Write more, wind each desire, and you'll see
The willows nod and rustle, and you will
hear the rushing babble of the free
gush of water, brimming, charged with light
That is your reader's understanding heart.
And cuddly poodles
In my zoo-zoo-zoo-zoo Zoodles
Just wanted to say thanks and bump before I said toodles!
{{{{{{PASTANAZI}}}}}}}